


The Bad Advice Box

by idanato



Series: The Darkest Mage Timeline [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Detention, Fluff, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato
Summary: Dorothea and Hubert get detention (as usual), and take the opportunity to raid the advice box, giving their own spin to the responses instead of cleaning the Cathedral like Seteth wanted.





	The Bad Advice Box

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized advice notes are taken from actual in-game text

Edelgard went up to secure her seat in the front row while Hubert quietly prepared his coffee in the back of the room. He had softened ever so slightly towards the professor for having allowed him to brew coffee in the homeroom, which eliminated a perilous open mug journey from the dining hall. He savored the smell of the fresh roasted dark Dagda blend and calmly poured his nearly boiling water over the grounds. This was his favorite moment of the day, the veritable calm before the storm of things he’d have to fix.

When he turned to walk to the front he saw that Lysithea had seated herself in his spot. Hubert sighed, this was fine. Lysithea was new to their house, and she ought to get acquainted with Edelgard. He would just sit with Petra, which was almost just as good as sitting with Edelgard.

To Hubert’s horror, the other new recruit, Felix, immediately took the chair next to the princess of Brigid. This was not as fine with Hubert who quickly surveyed the room to figure out where he was going to sit. Caspar and Linhardt had taken their usual table, not that he would really want to sit with either of them. A seat next to Dorothea was open, or an empty table. Hubert saw Ferdinand enter the homeroom and zero in on the seat with Dorothea.

Hubert sighed, when life gave one lemons it was best to squeeze them in someone’s eye. Hubert sat down next to the songstress before Ferdinand could reach the table. She was likely to talk through class, but today they were covering brawling techniques and Hubert wasn’t keen on paying close attention.

“Let me guess, I will be spending my afternoon with you courtesy of Seteth?” He suspected he didn’t even have to ask.

Hubert spent an inordinate amount of time in detention with Dorothea. Sometimes it was trouble they got in together, but often it was just that they both ended up there each week for various offenses. Detention with Byleth was low key and usually she let them quietly do their homework. Dentition with Seteth always meant a long lecture and some tedious punishment like clapping out erasers, sweeping up cobwebs in the cathedral, or skimming the pond.

This week, Hubert had been given detention for skipping sky watch, which he had all but begged to be exempt from. He couldn’t ride a pegasus (alas his lifelong dreams, dashed) and wyverns were unpleasant, smelly animals that always snapped at him. Then there was the issue of heights. He wouldn’t actually be doing a patrol, rather he’d just be battling his dizzying vertigo. So he’d skipped it, landing himself a nice full week of afternoon detention with Seteth.

Dorothea turned a particular shade of red as she nodded, “Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday for me.”

Hubert smirked, “What did you do?”

“Uh, well, I was apparently following Seteth around too much and he got mad. He accused me of trying to spy on him,” she sighed.

“Were you?”

“Yes, I’m doing research for a very important project,” grumbled Dorothea. She had put her arm over the paper she was working on but Hubert could just make out the phrase “_Poofy Pants Theory_” at the top.

Hubert looked down at his own baggy pants and then tried to scan the paper a little harder. She had sorted the entire male population of the monastery into loose and tight pants wearers and seemed to be trying to find the reason behind the choice. Hubert knew his reason, they were simply more comfortable, afforded a greater range of motion, and made it easier to hide weapons in their deep pockets, but he was dying to know what sort of nonsense Dorothea had come up with. He narrowed in on Seteth’s name and read Dorothea’s hypothesis: “_Secretly large butt?_”.

Hubert choked on his coffee and set his mug down before reading any more. Linhardt was “_Most similar to pajamas_”, that was likely true. Claude was “_For cartwheels_”, and Ashe was “_Is he wearing both?_”. Hubert’s name merely had a star next to it. He saw a few other stars but there wasn’t really a pattern to it: Dedue, Sylvain, Dimitri. It was possible they were all just tall. Sylvain also had a frowny face drawn next to him, that was self explanatory.

Dorothea noticed his snooping and quickly folded the paper up, “Hubie it’s rude to read over people’s shoulders.”

As if that had ever stopped him before, “What does the star mean?”

Dorothea did not respond but she had returned to a familiar shade of red. That meant the star was for something too inappropriate for even her to commit to writing. She bit her lips teasingly, “It means you have no fashion sense.”

“Sure,” said Hubert as he resumed drinking his coffee. At least he could rule out secretly large posterior as the answer.

Hubert’s eyes began to glaze over about twenty minutes into Byleth’s lecture on gauntlet types. What he had taken away so far was under no circumstances allow a person with gauntlets near you. He was happy to comply with that.

Dorothea also looked incredibly sleepy as she doodled in the margins of her notes. _Mrs. Dorothea Eisner_ was circled with tiny hearts. Hubert looked up at the professor and shook his head, he still wasn’t getting why everyone was so obsessed with this uncultured woman. Hubert let his mind wander to the unlikely scenario of him dating Byleth; the very first thing he would do would be to fix that outfit of hers, it was completely unprofessional.

Byleth seemed to love fishing, and Hubert could see that being a productive use of time. They could then cook the fish and have dinner. He smiled to himself, that wasn’t a half bad date idea. He wondered what Edelgard would do if he took her fishing. It was unlikely to go well, Lady Edelgard always hated putting worms on hooks, and got upset when the fish swallowed the hook. Hubert was glad to jump in and handle the messier parts for her. She preferred a more gentle catch and release approach to fishing. Hubert much preferred a purpose driven experience; if he didn’t need any fish he certainly wasn’t going to just go and waste time looking at a pond like Linhardt.

Thinking about fishing had gotten him thinking about hobbies. Edelgard had repeatedly suggested that Hubert find a, as she put it “normal”, hobby. Bernadetta had a billion it seemed: embroidery, exotic plant rearing, painting, the list went on. Dorothea had her singing and gossip, Ferdinand had tea and being annoying. Petra went hunting. Caspar...Hubert wasn’t really sure what Caspar did outside his training, it certainly wasn’t reading or anything of the like.

Hubert’s hobby was gathering and encrypting information. He’d used a simple transposition cipher when he was fairly young to surprise Edelgard once. He could still remember how excited she had been to complete the elaborate scavenger hunt he’d cobbled together for her sixth birthday. It had taken them all through the palace finding the tiny messages slipped into vases and behind mirrors, with tiny riddles and clues for her to first decode and then solve. It had taken Hubert weeks to set the whole thing up, and had occupied the young princess for the entire day. After that he’d practically memorized the cipher and could write almost as fast as if he were writing normally. He’d since moved onto more complicated encryptions, but from time to time he came back to that original simple cipher when he was feeling nostalgic for the days before the insurrection.

He wrote a note now to Dorothea:

YKK EUA OT JKZKTZOUT

He gave her a clue, above the A he wrote U.

Dorothea stared at the little note. It seemed to wake her up a bit as she set to work solving it. The cipher was elementary and took her no time at all. She groaned when she got it finished: _See you in detention_.

Dorothea moved her paper to the other side of the table and started furiously scribbling. Hubert was excited to get a rather long note with a rather small little clue. It was a similar style, but instead of a six letter bump it was nineteen. Hubert worked through it, thankful for the distraction from the lesson, _Bet you we’re stuck inside the Cathedral since it’s so nice out._ He sighed because that was probably true. Hubert hated the cathedral.

***

Dorothea had been correct, Seteth lectured at them both all the way to the cathedral promptly at 3 pm. He looked incredibly unimpressed by the pair, “Surely you two delinquents must tire of spending so much time with me.”

Dorothea put her hands on her hips, “I was researching men's fashion for an important thought piece on uniform choice and personality, not spying on you.”

Hubert did his best impression of a smile, “Please consider my request concerning sky watch and perhaps you won’t see me, as much.”

Seteth ignored him and looked at Dorothea, “You will see to cleaning around the statues of the saints. Please give particular care to Saint Cethleann.” He looked at his clipboard and then at Hubert, “You will sweep the rest of the Cathedral today.” Hubert resisted the urge to roll his eyes, that was a vast amount of surface area to cover.

It was a particularly beautiful afternoon, and as such the cathedral was super empty. Hubert pushed his broom around the wall of the cathedral feeling bored. As he got to the back left corner, he saw the advice box. It’s minder was not present.

Hubert looked around and saw no potential witnesses. He quietly opened the box, and found it relatively full of unanswered questions. Hubert grabbed a fistful and stuffed them into his ample pockets. He continued to sweep until he meandered a path back to Dorothea.

“I found something else for us to do,” he said as he pulled out the papers.

“What if Seteth catches us?”

Hubert had spent a great deal of time in detention with Seteth; as long as they appeared to be working when five o’clock rolled around it would be fine.

Dorothea still looked a little conflicted. Hubert set aside his broom and folded his hands, staring up at the statue to Saint Cichol, “Please, if you are real, protect me from Seteth’s zeal.”

“Hubie you’re so sacrilegious,” muttered Dorothea.

Hubert was an atheist. He began to read her the first note to tempt her in, “Dear Advice Box, my best friend and I have a crush on the same person, what should I do?” Hubert took out his pencil and cleared his throat, “Dear Crush Conflict, slip some hemlock in your friend’s tea. You’ll find success in no time.”

“Hubert!” hissed Dorothea as she came over and took the note off him. She stole his pencil and began to erase his response, “People take these seriously.”

“Fine you answer that one,” said Hubert as he fetched another pencil out of his pocket. He sat down and began to sort through the pile, “Here’s a lame one, _I typically decorate with red roses when I host a tea party but lately I am considering the virtues of variety. Do you have any thoughts about other flowers I might try?_” Hubert paused and then carefully wrote, “Dear Flower Power, consider instead the beauty in decorating with the blood of your enemies. Sincerely, Bad Advice Box.”

Dorothea snorted, “Okay that was either Ferdie or Lorenz. They deserve that.” She pulled up a new card, “Oh steamy, _I’d like to try my hand at portraiture, can you think of anyone who would model for me?_” She bit her lip as she started to write, “Dear Eager Artist, Manuela is available for private figure drawing sessions. Best wishes, Bad Advice Box.”

Hubert shuddered at the thought. He felt bad about this one, “_I’m not good at talking to others, I can talk to birds, horses, and other animals just fine, but when it comes to people, I freeze up_.” He could relate, “Dear Selective Speaker, pretend the other person is a horse, and you’re good to go.”

Dorothea raised her eyebrow at the next one, “_I am an only child. Because of this, I am worried that my parents will have to adopt a child or do their best to have another of their own if I don't carry the family title._” She peered closely at the handwriting, “This is totally Lin’s writing. Okay, Dear Lonely Lad, your parents could always adopt Caspar, and give him your inheritance. He’ll surely spend it wisely.” They laughed as they did imitations of Linhardt reading the response.

Hubert held up his next victim, “_You know, I don't even care when people say I'm short. But I'm definitely open to suggestions if you know of a quick way to grow!_” He licked his lips, “Dear Short Stack, look into getting stretched on a rack, it does wonders for the back.”

Dorothea giggled, “Is that why you’re so tall?”

Hubert laughed darkly, “My father replaced my bed with one from the ages of thirteen to sixteen.”

“That’s not true,” she said with a bit of uncertainty. It was a lie, but Hubert enjoyed leaving her guessing.

She chuckled, “_Whenever I go for a walk, I get this strange feeling that someone is watching me. Who could it be?_ Dear Possibly Paranoid, don’t worry it’s only Hubert, but do not engage.”

“Don’t write that,” said Hubert getting embarrassed. He saw his own advice solicitation about his dream of becoming a Pegasus knight and quickly pocketed it before Dorothea could see it.

***

Seteth decided to do a quick check-in on his least favorite students. He could see von Vestra had abandoned his post, typical. Seteth shook his head as he mentally prepared to continue to lecture these morons. As he entered the Cathedral he could hear the two Black Eagles talking and laughing from the chamber of the saints. This was supposed to be a place of somber reflection, not Alois’ stand up night at the pub. As Seteth approached he was horrified to hear them reading off and responding to the confidential anonymous advice solicitations. Seteth fumed, these were supposed to be answered by trusted faculty and members of the church, not the two biggest pains in his rear end! He paused near the entrance of the room as he listened to von Vestra reading off a particularly long one.

Hubert could be heard growing serious, “Dear Advice Box, I am very fortunate to have been blessed with a wonderful and caring father. Having met so many new people at the monastery I know this is not the case for my new friends, many of whom come from fractured and violent homes or no home at all.” Hubert paused and sighed, “Yet my father is too protective, and I long to find my own path. How can I lay to rest his worries while still letting him know how much I appreciate all he has done?”

Seteth’s heart sank as he processed what could only be Flayn’s question. To his horror he heard a pencil scratching against paper. He heard Hubert read his response to Dorothea, “Dear Daughter, Advice Box is not a father, but knows a thing or two about raising a strong independent woman. You may be growing up, but he can't help that he still sees the little girl you were. Seek your path, but be gentle on him. Good fathers are hard to come by, cherish yours.”

Dorothea gasped, “Hubie that was actually good.”

“Even I have my moments,” sighed Hubert.

Seteth cleared his throat and walked into the Saints’ Chamber. He heard them both cursing as they tried to hide the evidence of their mischief. Seteth covered his face and shook his head, “I was gone for a half an hour and you’ve managed to debauch the advice box.” Seteth held out his hand to collect the maimed notes. Hubert and Dorothea reluctantly turned over their work. Seteth flipped through them with short patience. They were sarcastic and terrible, all save for the last one. He held it up and stared down Hubert. To his annoyance the morose Black Eagle didn’t really sink away from Seteth’s disciplinary face.

“You know when you take yourself seriously you can do great things,” said Seteth calmly as he shuffled the bits of paper. Seteth sighed and looked at Dorothea, “Were you really trying to write a thought piece on men’s fashion?”

“Yes,” insisted Dorothea. “Seteth, Mr. Seteth? Why do you wear such poofy pants?”

Seteth grimaced at the ridiculous question, “This was the height of fashion back in my day. Perhaps I could use an update.”

Dorothea looked expectantly at Hubert’s pants, “And what’s your excuse?”

Hubert pulled at the sides, “Pockets.” Seteth could hear all manner of unknown oddities jangling around in there.

Seteth narrowed his gaze on them. He’d struggled to find ways to keep von Vestra and Arnault engaged and occupied while in detention. They managed to make themselves useless at almost every task. Seteth prayed to the goddess he was not going to regret this, “I will be resurrecting the student newspaper. Dorothea, I would like you to do your thought piece for the first issue. Hubert,” Seteth paused and with great trust in the possibility that Hubert wasn’t truly as awful as his exterior suggested, “I would like you to handle an advice column. A serious one. Light joking is fine, but I will be your editor.” Seteth took a deep breath, “We will sit down and map out the details during tomorrow’s detention. I trust you’ll have plenty of afternoons with me to commit to getting the paper published.”

The two students exchanged disbelieving glances. Seteth shooed them, “Get out of here, go enjoy the afternoon.” He added afterthought as they rushed to get out of the Cathedral, “Don’t get in too much trouble!”


End file.
